


Do It (give it your best shot)

by kopycat_101



Series: Nathmarc November [24]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassination Plot(s), Assassins & Hitmen, Attempted Murder, Attempted Seduction, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Banter, Bisexual Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Dresses, Enemies to Lovers, Feelings Realization, Flirting, Gay Marc Anciel, Getting to Know Each Other, Good Chloé Bourgeois, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Mutual Pining, Slash, Suits, Undercover, Undercover Missions, Unresolved Sexual Tension, and finding out the other is actually really charming, but then being forced to talk to each other during a mission, everyone ships it, the homoeroticism of attempting to kill each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27702688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopycat_101/pseuds/kopycat_101
Summary: “We all have to play bodyguardsometimes,” the poisons specialist coos, tugging on Nath’s steel-gray tie, baby-blue eyes twinkling. “But, hey, look on the bright side! Maybe you’ll see your boyfriend at the charity ball!”“Emerald isnot my boyfriend,” Nathaniel hisses, face going warm. Juleka snorts, and Rose giggles.“Sure he isn't,” Juleka deadpans.“I think you’re both very romantic,” Rose chips in.The redhead rolls his eyes. “We’re both assassins and we both have missions to kill each other on sight. How is that romantic?”“It’s a classic enemies-to-lovers trope,” Rose says, very seriously. Nathaniel instantly feels like dying.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Chloé Bourgeois, Chloé Bourgeois & Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Juleka Couffaine & Nathaniel Kurtzberg & Rose Lavillant, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Marc Anciel/Nathaniel Kurtzberg
Series: Nathmarc November [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994782
Comments: 19
Kudos: 40





	Do It (give it your best shot)

**Author's Note:**

> For NathMarc November Day 24: Adventure
> 
> This fic is only loosely based on the prompt, but I used the word 'adventure' like twice, so it must work right? Right??? Yeah, let's go with that.
> 
> Title from Do It by Tuxedo, because that song is a Vibe and I think would fit these two very well

* * *

"Do you have any last words to say to me before I snuff out your life, Flame?" Emerald whispers lowly, carefully tilting Nathaniel's chin up with his knife.

"Yeah. You're pretty hot, but you missed one thing," the redhead smirks, before grabbing the other's wrist and turning their bodies around, pinning the other assassin in place against the wall, their positions reversed. Now the other’s blade was against his own throat. "I'm better at physical combat than you."

"And I'm more flexible," Emerald grins sharply, twisting and contorting his body around Nathaniel, knocking the knife out of his hands in the process.

Nathaniel instantly pulls out his glock, locked and loaded and pointed right at the dark-haired man. But Emerald was also pointing a handgun at him, slowly backing away, heels of his dress shoes clicking slightly against the linoleum floor.

“I’m a better shot than you. You know this, Emerald,” the redhead warns with a tsk.

The other man smirks back at him, giving him full bedroom eyes. God, why did his target have to be so excruciatingly attractive…? It was a shame he had to kill him. Emerald had it all, a true talent in the field.

“Who says I was going to shoot you?” Emerald asks playfully, before shooting and ducking. The bullet whizzes past Nathaniel’s head.

And then a blaring alarm sounds, and the sprinklers come on, instantly plastering Nathaniel’s long bangs in his eyes. He fires wildly, at the spot he believes Emerald will head for, hearing the other man curse and roll away.

Fuck. Emerald triggered the fire alarm. Nathaniel had clocked it in the room at the start, but had forgotten about that little detail in the middle of their hot fight full of sexual tension.

Smart of him, though, the redhead thinks as he shoves his waterlogged hair out of the way and runs after Emerald. The only thing that would get Nathaniel to miss his impeccable shot is his vision getting impaired in some way.

Emerald was always tricky and clever, though. It’s what made their fights so enjoyable, over their careers. It’s what made the hunt so thrilling. Not knowing what Emerald would pull, the insane schemes, seemingly shaping luck itself around him.

God, and the bastard was so fucking charming and seductive, too. He had anyone and everyone wrapped around his fingers, could act like a pure angel or the devil himself, depending…

Nathaniel gives a sigh, and if it sounds a little wistful, well. No one is around to really point it out.

* * *

“Remind me again why I took this mission…?” Nathaniel sighs, highly uncomfortable as Rose adjusts his suit jacket and Juleka hovers over his face, putting the last touches on his makeup.

“Because you’re our best assassin?” the undercover specialist drawls, squinting at him, nearly getting her long hair in his mouth as she turns her head to look at her makeup palette.

“Er, yeah. Emphasis on the _assassin_ bit.”

“We all have to play bodyguard _sometimes_ ,” the poisons specialist coos, tugging on Nath’s steel-gray tie, baby-blue eyes twinkling. “But, hey, look on the bright side! Maybe you’ll see your boyfriend at the charity ball!”

“Emerald is _not my boyfriend_ ,” Nathaniel hisses, face going warm. Juleka snorts, and Rose giggles.

“Sure he isn't,” Juleka deadpans.

“I think you’re both very romantic,” Rose chips in.

The redhead rolls his eyes. “We’re both assassins and we both have missions to kill each other on sight. How is that romantic?”

“It’s a classic enemies-to-lovers trope,” Rose says, very seriously. Nathaniel instantly feels like dying.

“You read too many cheesy romance novels, Sun.”

“She does,” the other woman agrees, “But you also have a crush a mile long on the guy. He’s all you ever talk about anymore.”

“M-Moon! I do _not_!” the redhead snaps, ears no doubt beet-red. After all, no makeup’s there to cover his blush.

The dark-haired woman just dramatically rolls her amber eyes, and her short-haired girlfriend giggles like a schoolgirl. Nathaniel scowls at them both. “Just finish dolling me up for this stupid bodyguarding gig. Pretending to give a shit about old rich people makes me wanna hurl.”

“No need to be so bitchy, Flame,” Sun coos up at him, giving one last tug on his suit jacket. “You look great! [The black tux is a classic](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e7/38/e5/e738e50d83692f35da1ddbb0447b0cc9.jpg), and you look handsome, but not too much to steal the show.”

“Don’t forget all your weapons and where they are on your person at all times,” Moon drawls out monotonously, twirling a nailed finger around. “Standard procedure, yadda yadda, good luck and don’t die, dude.”

“Thanks. Your support means a lot,” he deadpans, before sighing and rolling his shoulders. “Alright, showtime. I’ll catch you later, ladies.”

He thinks he’s in the clear, before Sun calls out right as he steps out of the threshold of the room, “Say hi to your boyfriend for us!”

Before he can cuss his friend-slash-coworker out, the doors shut behind him.

God, this was gonna be a fucking _nightmare_. He can feel it.

* * *

Nathaniel is nearly bored to tears, as of this moment. He almost wished for there to be a little spice, a little adventure, in his assignment right now.

He may be hired as a bodyguard for the Mayor of Paris, but good _God_ is the man a bore. And his daughter is incredibly shallow and only talks about shoes and clothes. The blonde young woman—Chloe, that’s her name— hasn’t stop trying to drag Nathaniel around like a ragdoll since the instant she bodily attached herself to him. But he has to stick by the Mayor as well to protect him, so Nathaniel has had to placate her and subtly keeping them somewhat close to Mayor Bourgeoise’s vicinity while she natters on and on to him.

She must be bored as well, he thinks, if she’s clutching at him so fiercely and hasn’t allowed him one second to breathe and be out of her sight. Almost everyone else here is middle-aged, if not elderly. He’s the only other young person that isn’t a server-slash-hotel employee in attendance so far that he’s seen.

“And then I accidentally spilled red lipstick in her white Valentino bag _once_ , and Mother just goes completely _ballistic_. Honestly, it’s not like anyone will be looking inside her bag! I didn’t damage the outside of it whatsoever, yet she put up this _stink_ ,” Chloe rants, Nathaniel barely tuning into what she’s saying.

“That really wasn’t fair of her,” the bodyguard says idly, politely, eyes darting every which-way to take in possible threats. He was given a list of politicians and other assorted guests and has memorized them all, as is standard. He knows Mayor Bourgeoise is currently in no danger talking to Mr. Kubdel, the main curator of the Louvre, plus two other old codgers that were part of the city courts.

“It wasn’t! And when I offered to take the bag off her hands, as she claimed it was _too damaged_ , she threw it out instead!”

“That’s a waste of a perfectly good purse,” Nathaniel states, with vague sympathy, hoping to hide his disgust at the frivolousness of the entire situation painted to him.

“It really is!” Chloe huffs, nodding her head and looking pleased that he agreed with her. “It’s not like Valentino was in-vogue past that season, anyways! She would’ve gotten rid of it regardless, but I was _right_ there!”

“You could have kept it. Being vintage is in style, you might have used it a later season.”

“ _Exactly_!” the blonde says enthusiastically, blue eyes gleaming as she gripped harder onto his arm. “Oh, I’m so glad daddy hired you! You’re so handsome and understanding. Shame you’re gay, but at least I can talk fashion with you!”

Nathaniel very purposefully doesn’t correct the blonde that he’s bisexual, or else she might start getting ideas. He just raises a brow at her and asks, a bit curious, “And how exactly can you tell that I like men…?”

“Puh-lease. With how well-groomed you are, the way you’re so respectfully polite to me, _and_ how you’ve been eyeing up all the male servers that pass by? You’re totally gay,” Chloe smirks back at him.

Well, the fact that he was well-groomed was all standard procedure to make him blend into these functions as a bodyguard. Him being respectfully polite was because Chloe was a client, and he had the basic human decency and professionalism to not do anything but act respectful. As for him ‘eyeing up the male servers’, most of the servers were male, for one. Two, it was much harder to hide weapons with the pencil skirt uniforms of the female servers, so taking stock of them for possible threats was much quicker.

For a pampered little rich girl who was full of herself, though, Chloe Bourgeoise didn’t have a half-bad eye, he’ll give her that.

“Well, I’m unsure how accepting the crowd here is,” the redhead starts, tapping his lips lightly in a ‘shhh’ gesture, “so I’d appreciate you keep that information on the down-low, Miss Bourgeoise.”

The blonde seems to perk up, blue eyes shining, like a child being let into a secret. “Don’t worry, I won’t blab. One of my best friends also likes men, and no one’s heard a peep about that. Which is impressive, considering how rabidly vicious the media can be.”

“Then it seems like I’m in good hands,” Nathaniel smiles back at her, putting a bit of friendliness into the motion. The young woman beams back at him, and the redhead starts to realize that while she may be spoiled, Chloe Bourgeoise seems more lonely than anything.

And then the blonde woman looks over Nathaniel’s shoulder and squeals, loud enough it almost ruptures his eardrums. “ADRIKIIIINS!”

The bodyguard turns in place, looking for the newcomer that has caught his client’s daughter’s attention so thoroughly. It becomes apparent enough that the ‘Adrikins’ is Adrien Agreste, a model with blond hair and green eyes and a kind smile, the son of fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste.

Nathaniel quickly assesses the handsome young man in a black suit coupled with a green tie and vest, putting a name and face together, deeming him a non-threat. The young man all but speed-walks towards Chloe with a wide grin, posture tense but smile no less warm. He looks relieved, in fact, when he opens his arms slightly and Chloe runs right into them, hugging him enthusiastically.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!” Chloe says dramatically, before leaning back and clutching at the others’ forearms. “I finally have someone to talk with!”

“What about your friend, there, with the red hair…?”

“Oh, him? That’s Nathan. Daddy hired him to be my bodyguard today,” the young woman says, curled ponytail whipping about as she looks between the both of them. “Nathan, this is Adrien Agreste.”

“Pleasure,” Nathaniel says, politely shaking hands with the model.

“Pleasure’s all mine. Thanks for looking after Chloe,” Adrien says kindly, eyes and smile equally kind. He seems to be a genuine person, and very personable. Quite unlike Chloe, but maybe Nathaniel wasn’t giving her enough credit; she’s warmed up to him considerably in the last ten minutes.

“She doesn’t need much looking after, truly,” the bodyguard says, because it’s the truth. With her constantly attached to his side, he hasn’t needed to worry about her so much. It was the Mayor that needed more protection. Nathaniel glances around quickly, noting Mayor Bourgeoise amongst a crowd of ministers, waving to a couple that was nearing them.

“Oh, so that’s the new one your father brought today, huh…?” Chloe asks dryly, looking pointedly at her best friend.

“Yeah…” Adrien trails off with an awkward and uncomfortable smile.

Nathaniel flits his gaze to where the two blondes were staring. They were watching Adrien’s father with distrust. The fashion mogul was in a crisp white suit, an off-white vest with silver trim, and a blood-red tie.

Nathaniel feels his heart almost stop as his gaze falls on the person clutching Gabriel Agreste’s arm.

Emerald. It was Emerald. Fuck, what was Emerald even doing here?!

Shit. Fuck. They did fucking background checks. No one even _vaguely_ resembling Emerald was on the list. Gabriel was supposed to bring a young woman who worked as a designer named Marinette Dupain-Cheng with him and Adrien, not _Emerald_ , of all people.

Nathaniel couldn’t stop staring, either. Emerald wasn’t in his usual garbs. All-black and easy-to-maneuver clothing for stealth missions. Suits and ties for incognito affairs. Plain and inconspicuous polo with khakis for sneaking into offices as just an office worker.

No, Emerald was in [a bright red cocktail dress. The bodice was tight against his torso in a sweetheart neckline, and the skirt was made of layers of sheer ruffles that draped down his svelte and fit figure](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/1552/5653/products/Sexy_Strapless_Layered_Red_Long_Prom_Dresses_with_High_Slit_Red_Formal_Dresses_Evening_Dresses_1024x1024.jpg?v=1556286027).

Emerald’s legs were long and tanned and bare, shown off by the wide slit on the left of the dress, settling high on his thigh. And showing off an impressive leg, of which Nathaniel knows for a fact was capable of locking him in a hold or used to high-kick Nathaniel’s weapons straight from his hands.

Coupled with a gleaming diamond necklace, red heels, red lipstick, and smoky eyeshadow that made his green eyes pop even further…God in Heaven, Emerald was fucking jaw-droppingly _gorgeous_.

“Well, one of our designers named Marinette was _supposed_ to join us,” Nathaniel hears Adrien say, through the haze in his mind. “But Father decided to bring the newest model with him here. The guy was a last-minute decision for sure.”

“What’s his name…?” Chloe asks, and the redhead finds himself start to sweat, heartrate speeding up.

He might get the other’s name. Emerald. He might _get his name_.

Before he can stop himself, his snaps his head over to stare at Chloe and Adrien. The young woman is smirking at him knowingly. “I think Nathan here’s smitten with the guy. So, Adri? What’s that model’s name?”

“Marc. Marc Anciel.”

Marc Anciel. Really? A pun on rainbow…?

Fucker was either using a ridiculous code name and managing to make it work, or his parents had a strange sense of humor.

Still, it almost felt…humanizing. A name attached to the other assassin that Nathaniel’s been matching wits with. Even if it’s not his real name, it’s still closer than ‘Emerald’ will ever be.

“To be fair, he _is_ a rather pretty man,” Adrien admits, blasé if not for the slight pink high on his cheekbones. “Also very sweet and charming. He’s won everyone’s hearts during the shoots, from what I can tell.”

“And your father’s arm,” Chloe adds dryly, shooting a narrow-eyed and mildly disgusted look at Gabriel Agreste’s back. “It must be insulting for him, to be forced in a dress, paraded around like a prize.”

“Marc doesn’t seem to mind it…He’s one of our androgynous models, and is always wearing skirts and the like, and says he enjoys it…” Adrien says awkwardly.

Chloe levels the other a flat look. “You and I both know that’s not the problem here, Adri,” she says darkly, and. Oh. _Yikes_.

Nathaniel knows peripherally what the problem is. Gabriel Agreste always has a new woman on his arm every year for the annual charity ball since his wife passed nearly a decade ago. It makes perfect sense that this would make his son uncomfortable, despite the fashion mogul always being professional and supposedly only taking one of his models as his plus-one to ‘show off the brand’.

Still, there are some deep-seated daddy issues there that Nathaniel doesn’t want to touch with a ten-meter pole.

Adrien just hisses and clicks his tongue, before carefully reaching out and clapping Nathaniel on the shoulder. “I can introduce you, if you’d like…?”

“Please,” Nathaniel says dazedly, mind whirring a mile a minute.

He has to get close to Emerald. Has to make sure the other doesn’t slip something in the Mayor’s drink, because why else would he be here if not to murder Mayor Bourgeoise at the charity ball? No one would suspect it, think it could just be the rotund man’s heart giving out from natural causes.

The fact that Emerald is here at all is concerning, but it’s doubly so by the fact that he’s seemingly infiltrated the Agreste Fashion Brand to do so. Gabriel Agreste is a powerful man, and so is his brand. He funds so much of the city through his donations, and has worldwide recognition.

Wait. What if Marc isn’t just here for the Mayor…? What if he kills the Mayor, but stays with Gabriel Agreste, then steals all his money and kills him as well? Good God, it would cripple Paris from the inside, two affluent public figures taken out. Is this a long-term honeypot mission, on top of it? That would explain why he’s crossed paths with Emerald less and less often during his usual assassination missions—

Nathaniel’s mind spirals, but he keeps his face a calm and polite façade as he possibly can, while Adrien and Chloe walk him up to the group of men speaking with Gabriel and not-so-subtly ogling Emerald. Honestly, the redhead can’t even blame them. Closing in on the other assassin, and he looks just as breathtakingly gorgeous and sultry from up close as he did from far away.

Hoo _boy_ , was it going to take all of Nathaniel’s energy for the upcoming interaction.

“Excuse us, Father,” Adrien interjects smoothly, when there’s a lull in the conversation, the old coots using their mouths to gape and drool over Emerald than have riveting discussions. Mr. Kubdel seemed to be the only one not wanting to eat the model alive, instead politely surveying the trio. “But Chloe wanted to meet the newest model.”

“Of course,” Gabriel Agreste says, inclining his head slightly at his son, a mask of cool indifference. “Chloe, dear, this is Marc Anciel. He is our newest model, and a talent in our brand. Mister Anciel, this is Chloe Bourgeoise.”

“Pleasure,” Chloe says, with a sugary-sweet smile that just had a hint too many teeth.

Emerald looks up with a picture-perfect smile, freezing in place and emerald eyes going wide as Nathaniel locks eyes with him.

“P-Pleasure,” ‘Marc’ stutters out, wrenching his gaze from Nathaniel to smile sweetly at Chloe.

Chloe instantly attaches herself to Nathaniel’s arm, dragging him forwards. “This is my bodyguard for today, Nathan! He’s very nice. I think you’d get along well. I mean, you already seem to recognize him. Have you both met before?”

Jesus Christ, Chloe Bourgeoise was as subtle as a brick thrown through a window. It’s…actually rather refreshing, if panic-inducing, because Nathaniel sure as hell hadn’t wanted to make it obvious that he knows the other assassin.

Marc simply brings a hand up, covering his mouth as he giggles. “We used to be coworkers once, in fact, though I’m not sure we’ve ever spoken for very long. Always passing by each other in the office.” He lowers his hand, giving Nathaniel a warm smile as he extends it. “Charmed to see you again, Nathan.”

Fuck. Even his half-fake name sounds delicious on the other’s lips. He was regretting using a fake name based on his real one, paranoid now more than ever that Emerald will link it to him. Then again, no one is daring enough to use their real name in part for their fake name, so that’s probably protecting him.

“Of course,” Nathaniel replies as he internally panics, quickly grasping the other man’s fingertips and bowing, kissing the back of Marc’s knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to see you again as well, Marc. You look lovely, today.”

Marc giggles, tanned cheeks going pink and fluttering his lashes, a delicate hand up to lightly touch his cheek. “Oh, it’s the new haircut, I’m sure.”

“Your hair suits you, but I was speaking more of how radiant you look. Red is definitely your color.”

“Father, may we be excused to converse further?” Adrien asks, a little loudly.

The stoic man raises a single brow. “Very well…” he trails off, an odd edge to his voice. “Off you go, son.” He turns to the other older men, with a patronizing look, as if saying, “ _Ah, children. Always getting in the way_.”

Well, fuck him too.

“Thank you, Father. Chloe?”

“Of course!” The blondes instantly hook elbows. Which just-so-happens to leave Marc and Nathaniel without partners. Joy.

Nathaniel turns to the other man and offers his elbow like a gentleman, with a crooked grin. “May I?”

Marc smiles back at him, carefully placing a hand on his elbow, trailing the digits along his sleeve in an almost sensual manner. “You may.”

It takes all of Nathaniel’s willpower to keep calm, as he leads Emerald away on his arm.

* * *

“It’s interesting seeing you here,” Marc starts lightly, as him and Flame follow along the Bourgeoise girl and young Agreste. “I never knew you’d be going into playing bodyguard.”

Flame is a very skilled assassin and infiltrator. Marc has never seen the man on lowly bodyguarding duty before now. He’d thought such missions were below the famous Flame, the assassin so skilled, he burned all enemies in his path.

Their paths have always crossed, however. Marc and Flame’s. Even on jobs that Marc thought would be clear for him to infiltrate and sabotage without issue, Flame was there to foil him.

Truly, at this point, he shouldn’t even be surprised. Yet, he is.

Flame looks delectable in a crisp, black-and-white suit with a steel-gray tie. It makes his red hair and blue eyes pop, like a sea and an inferno in one. Marc wants to burn and drown in the other man’s embrace, because dying in such a way would be a great way to go, a perfect finale to his career.

But, no. He is a professional. And he has a job to do.

He was hired by Gabriel Agreste to both work as a model and work to infiltrate and assassinate those in his way. Today was their best chance for Marc to accomplish that. Hell, it’s why Marc hadn’t been bothered when giving himself much of a codename, keeping his first name. He’d thought his job would go off relatively well, never considering Mayor Bourgeoise was enough of a paranoid bastard to get someone of Flame’s caliber on his paycheck.

But as the Mayor is incredibly affluent, it’s no wonder he got one of the best in the business to look after his life.

“I don’t make a habit of taking these sort of jobs,” Flame says lightly with a shrug. “Bodyguarding isn’t usually my deal. But there was a need, and I couldn’t leave the Mayor’s daughter unprotected, as he’s so intent on her wellbeing.”

“As any father should,” Marc agrees lightly, inclining his head.

Ah, so they’re using the cover of Flame being just Chloe Bourgeoise’s bodyguard, and not someone hired for the Mayor. No doubt to not cause panic, as well as rumors spreading of paranoia. After all, the Mayor had his staff, and his normal retinue of guards. A personal bodyguard, top of the market, would be overkill…right?

Hah. Well, it seems like the fat man’s paranoia was actually well-founded. It’s currently the one thing between Marc fulfilling his job and Mayor Bourgeoise staying alive. Marc had everyone else perfectly fooled of simply being a sexy little model that was just here for eye candy.

With dear ‘Nathan’ here, though, things were going to be…complicated.

Oh well. Marc always enjoyed a challenge. And no matter how they crossed, it sure was an adventure with Flame.

* * *

Chloe and Adrien have ‘mysteriously’ gone off on their own, leaving Marc with Nathaniel. Alone. The redhead wants to roll his eyes at their matchmaking scheme, but honestly? This works perfectly in his favor.

Besides, the two blondes look like they need some form of happiness and entertainment in their stifling lives.

So the redhead assassin ignores the pair huddling off behind a nearby pillar and totally-not-watching him and Marc chat.

And the rest of the guests were also watching them, as well. No doubt because of how eye-catching Marc was in his little red number, a beacon in the dreary sea of black suits and aged leather faces. The wives of the affluent men were all but clutching their pearls, digging their manicured nails into their ancient husbands’ arms and hissing at them to stop ogling the model.

Hah. Even as a man, Marc pulled off a dress so well he was making a sea of old men drool. Truly a talent.

“I’m not surprised you went into modeling,” Nathaniel starts, carefully leading them across the ballroom floor. “You seem to fit it well.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Marc asks innocently, batting his lashes at him. “What features of mine, exactly, seem fitting…?”

Nathaniel hums, and thinks it over. “Your elegance. You have the poise that would work wonders as a model. Not to mention your charm, and your adaptability, as well.”

Marc blinks back at him, looking genuinely caught off-guard. Has no one ever complimented him on something that wasn’t based on his physical appearance…? That’s a true shame. Emerald was more than just a pretty face; this Nathaniel knows well. He was clever, and sharp, and quick. He just happened to have stunningly good looks on top of it.

The dress-wearing assassin is quick to cover the surprised expression with a giggle and a bashful smile. “Oh? My Mama had always said it would be my eyes that would get me photographed.”

“Well, she’s not wrong on that front either. You have very stunning eyes,” the redhead admits. “As green as emeralds. Though I’m sure others have told you that before?”

“It’s a common compliment, yes,” Marc says with a smile, emerald eyes crinkled. “But I think it’s sweet when you say it.”

The redhead clears his throat to buy himself time to answer, flustered by the comment. “Well, I’d wax poetic, but I’m afraid I’m not a poet. If you gave me some paints and a canvas, I might get close to showing you. But I highly doubt even a thousand hours of painting your portrait would capture your essence. Being in your presence would be the only way.”

“For someone who claims he’s not a poet, that was quite poetic,” the other teases back, before giggling and ducking his head. “You’re making me blush, Nathan.”

It’s infuriating, how charming Marc is, even if it’s all an act. Nathaniel actually feels his heart skip a beat at the other’s shy turn of demeanor.

He takes a glance around himself, and finds everyone’s attention very much on the pair of them. Fucking damn it.

When Nathaniel looks back in front of him, he realizes they’re heading to the bar in the corner of the room, because Marc has been subtly steering them in that direction. He’s so completely distracted by the other man, he hadn’t even noticed!

Not paying attention could get him killed. He can’t slip up, damn it.

Marc lets go of his arm to glide towards the bar, turning around and leaning against its polished oaken surface, hands spread out to keep his balance. [There’s a blush on the dark-haired man’s cheeks and an inviting smile on his face, the material of the other’s dress shifted aside to all but flash the entirety of one of his legs at Nathaniel as he lounges](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/659753718971105286/780690626559213578/IMG_1334.JPG).

“Are you thirsty?” Emerald asks, in a smoky voice that matches his smoky eyeshadow. “Why not have a drink with me, Nathan, darling?”

Nathaniel promptly gulps, heart all but leaping out of his chest and face _burning_. No matter the makeup he’s wearing, he’s definitely red up to his ears.

Fuck. Jesus fuck. His rival assassin was so sexy, it was unfair.

“I could go for a drink,” he finds himself saying, in a bit of a rasp.

Behind the bar, the beefy-looking barkeep just nods his head and gives Nathaniel a subtle thumbs-up with a tanned hand, grey eyes gleaming. Hah. The barkeep said gay rights. Nice. Or maybe that was just Nathaniel’s horny hysteria talking.

* * *

Flame is a cute and charming and funny, Marc quickly finds.

Bastard didn’t have to be. Marc would rather he wasn’t, actually, because that would make things _so_ much easier.

But as they lounge at the bar with martinis and ‘catch up’, chattering about made-up people and jobs that were no doubt only tangentially based on their real lives, it becomes very apparent very quickly that Nathan was an enjoyable person to be around.

He had a dry, sarcastic wit to him, a sharp sense of humor, and a crooked grin that looked natural in his mouth as he regaled Marc about his ‘coworkers’ from his ‘job’. His blue eyes gleamed with mirth whenever he told an anecdote, as lively as the sea.

They’re different, from the eyes whenever the two were literally at each other’s throats. Calmer. Less of a raging storm that was liable to drag Marc under and crush his body, and more of a gentle lapping of waves at the beach.

They’re…enjoyable to look at. Especially since Nathan meets his gaze squarely. Respectful to a fault. It makes Marc’s stupid heart flutter, that the other can stop ogling him to talk to him like an actual person. Not an object. Not an enemy. Just…talk to him.

It’s all an act, of course. An alibi created, a story spun, a web of carefully connected lies that wouldn’t compromise himself or his coworkers or his loved ones. But each story had enough of a grain of truth in it that it stirred up those emotions behind those kind, blue eyes.

Fuck. Marc was actually kind of smitten.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, damn it. He was supposed to seduce Flame. Have a little banter. Kill him. Finish his job. But as Nathan told a mundane tale of his coworker stealing the last bagel before lunch hit and had the gall to not even refill the coffee pot in exchange for her dastardly bagel-stealing crimes, Marc was hit with the startling realization that Flame was cute and normal and charming. Not just a hot murder man who had a crazy-good shot, who had the muscles to pin Marc down. Flame was just…A man.

Marc finds himself laughing back, a little more genuine each time. He gives snippets as well. Tales of the other models bitching, about mishaps in the dressing room, how one of the photographers would rant about her side-gig working for one of the newspapers because she took all the best photos but wasn’t recognized at all by the editors, the poor dear.

“Man. No matter the job, it feels like the same shit, huh?” Nathan snorts both a boyish grin, raising his glass to Marc. “To coworker bullshit shenanigans?”

Marc laughs, throwing his head back despite everything in his body screaming at him to protect his jugular. He laughs, and then raises his glass back at the redhead. “To coworker bullshit shenanigans.”

They gently clink martini glasses, before finishing their drinks. Marc notes the way the other licks the dredges off his lips, and wishes his tongue was the one to do it instead.

How much would he be compromising himself, if he allowed himself this one action…? This one weakness? Just leaning in and kissing the other assassin, forgetting about their roles, their jobs, the bounty placed on one another’s heads? Forgetting that their running assignment is to kill each other on sight, because they were always enemies, on opposite sides and opposite companies?

A lot, Marc decides, as he looks up at the other through his lashes. He’d be compromising everything. Though a little voice in his head whispers that he’s already managing that quite fine, showing weakness to Flame, indulging in a little talking and flirting and drinks.

He didn’t have to stay and flirt. He could try and move them back towards the Bourgeoise girl and Adrien. Maybe steer everything to go back towards his boss and the Mayor. Even if Flame would be stuck watching Marc’s every move, attempting to protect both Bourgeoise from his machinations, it would at least feel like Marc is closer to his objective, right…?

The thing is, he doesn’t. Want to move, that is. He doesn’t want to move from his spot at the bar. And he doesn’t want to stop flirting with Flame. He just…doesn’t want to leave the other’s company. It feels like a warm blanket. Nathan was warm, in his smile and his words, matching the flame of his hair, his codename.

And Marc realizes, fuck. He genuinely likes Flame.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Marc’s dress: https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/1552/5653/products/Sexy_Strapless_Layered_Red_Long_Prom_Dresses_with_High_Slit_Red_Formal_Dresses_Evening_Dresses_1024x1024.jpg?v=1556286027
> 
> Nathaniel’s suit: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e7/38/e5/e738e50d83692f35da1ddbb0447b0cc9.jpg
> 
> Fanart: https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/659753718971105286/780690626559213578/IMG_1334.JPG
> 
> I'm actually considering doing either a sequel fic or a second chapter of this later? Because there's WAY more I wanted to write about these two. But I just don't feel like I have enough time to do it today. We'll see. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


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